Signifying nothing . . .
by Sanguine1
Summary: Set directly after Into the Woods. Riley's left town. Buffy takes a walk on the dark side and pays a visit to Spike. Angel & Drusilla have cameos. Please R & R!
1. Aimless

Title: Aimless   
Author: Sanguine   
Disclaimer: Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, and 20th-Century Fox own these characters. The situations presented here come from my own twisted brain.   
Distribution: With permission.   
Rating: PG-13 (graphic violence)   


He watched her walk aimlessly into her house, her head down, slightly dragging her feet. This was not good. A cloud of smoke temporarily blurred his vision. He blinked and her slight body reformed before his eyes. He decided. He wouldn't approach her. His head still swam. Drinking with Captain Cardboard. He laughed silently at himself. The girl reached for the door.

Buffy Summers sat down heavily on the carpeted hardness of the stairs. Out of the corner of her eye she caught her reflection in the mirror. To the casual observer her face might seem placid, even calm. Then a tear ran down her cheek. Angrily, she swiped at it, took a breath, and strengthened her resolve.

* * * * * * * * * *

Morning came as it always did. She combed her hair before the mirror in her bedroom, the bedroom she had inhabited when she was in high school and now inhabited again because of her mother's recent   
illness. She ran downstairs and thought about breakfast, but her stomach informed her that wouldn't be wise. Sounds from above told her that Dawn was awake. In the back of her mind, she remembered about Glory, but somehow it didn't really seem to matter at all. Newsflash: another person wanted to kill her! She found the telephone in her hand and dispassionately punched in numbers.

"Hello?" She heard the familiar clipped accent on the other end.

"Riley left me."

Giles cleared his throat. He was not surprised by this turn of events. "Buffy, I'm . . . I'm so sorry. What happened?"

"He couldn't take it. The pressure of being around me. All the slayage. All the death." She laughed flatly. "Anyway, now I can focus full time on that destiny thing of mine, right Giles?" A sarcastic edge entered her voice.

"Well, yes. Yes, I suppose you can. But Buffy . . . you need people around you. You wouldn't have made it . . . " He stopped himself, and sipped at his tea, the rest of the sentence too painful to pass his lips. He began again, more softly. "Don't forget about us. We're here for you." He heard a click on the other end. She had hung up.

* * * * * * * * *

Buffy left the house, slinging a bag full of slayer weaponry on her back. She felt the excitement rise as she strode towards the cemetery. Prime hunting ground for vamps. She didn't even care if they weren't awake to fight. She just wanted them all dead. All of them.

* * * * * * * * * *

"Willow? It's Giles."

"Hi Giles," Willow Rosenberg answered sleepily. She glanced over at Tara and absentmindedly stroked Miss Kitty Fantastico who lay between them. "What's up?"

"Willow, I'm very worried about Buffy. She phoned this morning and told me that Riley left her. I don't know what happened but she didn't sound . . . well, she didn't sound all there. She was talking about fulfilling her destiny. Perhaps you could go and see if she's alright? I think she might need to talk to a friend right now."

"Will do. Poor Buffy."

Willow sighed and began pulling on her clothing, her face drawn with worry. "I don't know how much more Buffy can take. First her mom, then this." Grabbing her keys, she headed out the door.

* * * * * * * * * *

Willow knocked on the door. Once. Twice.

"Hello?"

"Hey Dawn. It's me. Open up."

The door swung open. "Hey Willow! Whatcha doing here?"

"Is Buffy around?"

"Nope. I saw her heading out the door with her slayage bag. Bit early for patrol, but you know." The girl paused. "Is something good going on? Can I come and watch?"

Willow smiled at her enthusiasm. "No and no Dawn. Buffy would kill me and then you. Death before I've even had my coffee. Not a good thing. . ." Willow paused, trying to keep her tone light. "You don't know where Buffy was headed, do you?"

Dawn shrugged. "As if she'd tell me. She never tells me anything good."

"Thanks Dawn. If Buffy comes by, tell her I was here." With that, Willow rushed away from the house, thinking desperately about where her friend might have gone. Slaying stuff. Destiny. The cemetery? Fighting sleeping vampires was hardly a challenge, but if Buffy was upset enough . . . Going there alone . . . Possibly very outnumbered . . . Willow's walk broke into a run as she called the other members of the Scooby Gang on her cell phone.

* * * * * * * * * *

Buffy didn't even bother to be stealthy as she broke into the marble mausoleum. "Weber" the engraving on the outside said, but the Webers weren't the only inhabitants anymore. A group of rather straggly-looking vampires were gathered, some sleeping, some telling tales of the previous night's hunt. Buffy drew the stakes from her bag and in complete silence dispatched all of them, leaving little piles of dust on the floor. Coldly she turned and moved to the next marble structure, palming a vial of holy water along with a stake.   
She wanted the next kill to take some time. Words echoed in her head. "Death is on your heels baby, and sooner or later it's going to catch you." Her lips tightened as she whispered, "It'll catch you first."

* * * * * * * * * *

The door to Spike's crypt flew open with a bang, sunlight painfully flooding in.

Spike's whiskey bottle dropped from his hand as the sunlight hit his exposed skin and began to smoke.

"Bloody hell Slayer! Shut the door." His voice sounded slightly thick and he struggled to get out of his chair.

Buffy strode purposefully over to the blonde vampire, her eyes expressionless as she pushed him back down. "Hello Spike. I just thought I'd let you know that you've gotten your fondest wish. You've destroyed me. At least any part of me that would care about killing you . . . a poor, defenseless creature." The last words she hissed just inches from his face, taking delight in his discomfort.

"Now Slayer . . ." Even in his rather drunk state Spike knew this was very serious. Very serious indeed.

Buffy shoved him down in the chair once more with one hand. Pinning him there with impossible strength born of rage she breathed, "What Spike? So eager to leave so soon? We're just getting started. I want you to feel the pain you've made me feel. Then I'm going to kill you." Deliberately she uncorked the holy water and dipped her finger in and gently ran it over his lips.

Spike screamed in pain and desperately tried to escape from her grasp, but the Slayer seemed stronger than usual. He was completely helpless.

"Of course you know Spike, what it's like to lose someone you love."

Spike looked at her cruel, emotionless eyes and said with complete sincerity, "Yes, I do."

* * * * * * * * * *

Willow, Xander, and Giles heard a scream of pain coming from one of the crypts. "Owwwww!" "Spike," they said simultaneously and ran for the crypt's door.

"Owwww!" The yelp came again as sunlight flooded the crypt. A few wisps of smoke drifted over from the chair where Spike sat, pinned down as the Slayer sat on his lap, almost lovingly administering a bath of holy water to his ravaged face.

"Buffy!" Giles swiftly closed the door.

Buffy didn't even turn from her work.

"Buffy! Buffy! He can't even fight back. What are you doing?"

Buffy slowly turned. "Pain Giles. Pain." Then lightly she tossed off, "I just thought I'd pay a little visit to Spike and administer some before I kill him."

Xander stepped forward and touched Buffy's shoulder. Already she was dipping her finger in the holy water for another go at Spike's face. "Buffy. It's not his fault Riley left. You obviously didn't make it in time?"

Buffy's eyes softened momentarily and she paused. "No Xander, I didn't. Maybe the Slayer is meant to be alone."

"Buffy, I'm sorry." Xander put one hand on her shoulder. "This won't make you feel better though."

"Really?" Buffy batted away Xander's hand and took up a stake. "Maybe it will." With lightning speed she drove her stake home . . . into the upholstery of the chair then ran out of Spike's crypt.

Spike shook. "Almost dead. Twice in two days. Bloody hell."

* * * * * * * * * *

Harmony gasped as she watched Spike tear around the crypt , muttering to himself.

"Spikey! What are you doing? What happened to your face? It's all burned and icky." Her lovely ceramic unicorn crashed off her bedside table as he rummaged through the drawers.

"Where is it Harmony?" He had a murderous glint in his eye as he slammed her head against the cold stone wall of the crypt. His voice lowered dangerously as she struggled. "I had $200 dollars in that table there, and now there's only $100. Where did the other hundred go . . . pet." He spat the last word in her blank face.

Struggling, she broke free, rubbing her neck. "Well, didn't you wake up on the wrong side of the bed, Mr. Grumpy? I told you I was going shopping for some new things for us." She gestured to a bag in the corner.

Spike looked inside the bag and his fury mounted. Porcelain unicorns and teddy bears.

She smiled. "Do you like them? Macy's was having a midnight madness sale."

As his face vamped, Harmony dodged the flying porcelain that he aimed at her head. "Spike. I just thought I'd brighten the place up. You've been in such a bad mood, I thought you might like something cheerful." A flying unicorn hurtled towards her head and connected.

"Spike!" She squealed in pain.

"Get out. I staked you once Harmony, and I'll do it again. Take all your sodding teddy bears and unicorns with you."

Harmony's eyes squinted with malice. "Is this about the Slayer? Is that why you're being so mean to me? Have you failed again Spike? Has she beat you up again?"

"Get. Out." Spike broke off a nearby chair leg. "I will kill you, you know."

"But Spike. . ." Harmony whimpered. "Where will I live?"

"Bloody hell. I don't care." Angrily he gathered up her trinkets and pushed her to the door and then pushed her though.

Outside, Harmony picked up her bag full of broken porcelain, petulantly examining the now detached horn from her unicorn. "I will get you for this Spike. I wonder if your old girlfriend knows what you've been up to lately? I don't think she'd be pleased." Harmony looked in her bag for her cell phone and hit 3 on her speed dial.

Drusilla woke up slowly from her dream, a glorious dream of dollies and nuns and chains. "Grandmother. I'm ringing again."

* * * * * * * * * *

Buffy pushed the tea away that Giles offered her. As if tea would make everything OK. Looking at her Watcher's face, she saw concern and something else . . . fear.

"Buffy, you . . . you might be strong but you can't just overpower creatures that are helpless. Even if the creature happens to be Spike. You have a sacred birthright . . ."

"To kill vampires Giles, remember? I kill things. That's what I do. End of story."

Xander chimed in. "Why are you so hepped up on killing blondie all of a sudden? I haven't noticed him being more annoying than usual." He paused. "This has something to do with Riley, doesn't it?" Buffy tried to keep her face impassive. "It does! What did Spike do Buffy?"

"I really don't care to discuss it."

"Buffy, I'm very concerned about you. The past few months you've been hunting, not just patrolling, not just doing your job. And now torturing Spike when he can't even fight back? You're going down a dark path Buffy."   
Giles removed his glasses and wiped them with the corner of his shirt, clearing his throat uncomfortably. "I . . . I know. I've been there."

"We're all there for you Buffy. Don't push us away," Willow chimed in.

Buffy laughed. "Don't push us away." She whirled to face Xander. "You're always boffing your 'once in a lifetime gal' Anya. And you Willow," she smirked. "You've gone all experimental on me. What can we talk about? Doing . . . spells?"

Willow's face fell. "Buffy, that's uncalled for."

"I'm a Slayer folks. Maybe I'm not cut out for girlfriend-dom . . . or friendship." Coldly she glanced at her watch. "I've got class. So if your little lecture's over Giles, I have another one to catch."

Giles watched her leave the magic shop, the bell ringing violently as the door slammed shut behind her. "Go and follow her Xander. She needs to be watched right now. We don't want to lose her."

* * * * * * * * * *

"Since when do vampires have their addresses listed in the Yellow Pages? Poofter!" Spike muttered under his breath as he tore out a page with a stylized angel on it. L.A., City of Angels. This place hadn't been that   
good to him last time he visited. Sure, torturing Angel had been fun (ah, memories!) but he'd failed to get the Gem of Amarra back. A real shame as he had so enjoyed beating Buffy up in broad daylight, seeing her in the sun of Sunnydale. As he remembered taunting her about Parker on the quad, his fist connecting painfully with her beautiful body, he felt excitement and something else. "Maybe I did push her," he considered, touching his blistered face. "Bloody hell Spike! You're pitiful."

In the darkness he could just make out the edifice of the former hotel. Feeling the stake in the pocket of his leather duster he entered the building. "Angel?" He looked around the dimly lit lobby. "Angel?"

Suddenly, out of nowhere, his found himself in a painful choke hold.

"Spike. How stupid are you? Should I just snap your head off and have it over with?" Angel's eyes glowed furious yellow in his vamp face.

"Angel . . . man . . . I need to tell you something. Important!" Spike forced the words out painfully through his constricted larynx.

Angel's vamp face disappeared as he released the blonde vampire. "If you're here to taunt me about Dru, I already know."

Spike's dark eyebrows raised in shock. "Dru's in L.A?" he said slowly, the habitual feelings of devotion resurfacing. "I thought she was in Brazil."

Angel drew a stake and pressed its point into the flesh above Spike's heart. "So this isn't about Dru? Talk. Now. I'm an impatient man and I don't have time for your nonsense."

"OK. OK. Here it is. Nice and quick. I need to hire you." He pulled a wad of bills from the pocket of his duster. "You're all about redemption, saving people's souls right? Well your little ex-girlfriend's losing it. Soldier boy left her and she's gone all dark and angsty."

"Oh, so that's what happened to your face. I have to admire her work, that girl. She's an artist." Painfully, Angel slapped Spike's raw skin.

Through the intense pain, Spike's anxiety level increased. Looking in Angel's eyes, he thought he saw Angelus, the demon, staring back.

"Why do you care anyway Spike? Self-preservation? Afraid she's gonna finally get around to killing you?"

"Yes . . . I mean no . . . I mean . . . well that's besides the point. Angel, she's really lost it! I mean really. She doesn't care about anything anymore."

Angel laughed bitterly, thinking about the employees . . . the friends he just fired. "I know the feeling."

Spike considered his next words carefully. "If you still love her, you'll go to Sunnydale and talk to her. She needs to see you."

"What I feel for Buffy is irrelevant and is really none of your business." Spike's head slammed painfully into the concrete wall. "Buffy can take care of herself . . . mate. She has Giles and Willow and Xander. She has her own life. Her own friends. This Riley business is all just part of growing up. The heartbreak. The pain. Yadda, yadda, yadda. It has nothing to do with me. Besides . . ." Roughly he threw Spike across the room. "I have pressing matters here to attend to. I just can't leave right now." Darla. Drusilla. Wolfram and Hart. As if in a movie he watched himself closing the door on Holland and his wine tasting party and felt a twinge of guilt. The ends justified the means?

"Angel, you pillock! She's gonna get herself killed."

"Spike, why can't I bring myself to believe you? Oh, that's right. Because you tortured me the last time I saw you. Our bond of trust is just broken beyond repair." Menacingly he picked up the stake. "Now get out before I decide to use this."

"Fine. Fine." Spike held up his hands in surrender. "But if your precious Buffy ends up dead, don't think I didn't warn you first."

Angel considered Spike for a moment, puzzled by the intensity, the borderline desperation he heard in the vampire's voice. "Just get out Spike, before I regret letting you leave."

As Spike left the building, two images spun in his head: Dru caressing one of her dolls and Buffy dipping her finger in holy water for another go at his face. Dru was back. Part of him wanted to go find her, but a bigger part wanted to go back to Sunnydale. He sighed, "I really am love's bitch."

* * * * * * * * * *

Drusilla wandered down the streets of Sunnydale, clutching Miss Edith in one hand. Grandmama had said she could go and pay a visit to her boy. She'd heard very naughty things about what Spike had been doing in Sunnydale. An insane jealousy rose up in her. "Miss Edith, we're just going to have to punish my little Spike, aren't we? And the Slayer too, floating round his head like stars." She spotted a man standing on the corner looking at his watch. Morphing into vamp face she approached him. The man looked at the demon in pure terror, but it was too late to run. Strong hands snapped his neck and a gleeful voice cried, "We'll snuff her out!"

* * * * * * * * * *

Buffy walked on patrol alone that night. Earlier in the day, she had caught Xander following her and an ugly scene had ensued. Finally, he had seen reason and left her alone, albeit reluctantly. Buffy's eyes scanned the cemetery as she looked for vampires to dust, momentarily lingering on Spike's crypt. She really wanted to hurt him some more, but she decided to save that for later, when the Scooby Gang wasn't on high alert.   
She could bide her time.

With her heightened senses, she heard a vampire approaching on her left. Almost nonchalantly she staked it. No fuss, no muss, no chitchat. Simple. Clean.

A few stray dust particles still hung in the air, but as they cleared she began to make out a figure.

"Hello Slayer."

"Dru." Buffy whispered, the elation building in her. This was going to be fun. What perfect revenge! She could kill her and send the dust to Spike. Tit-for-tat, mate.

"I'm back and strong and sparkly new, ready to drink from you. Ooh!" Drusilla clapped her hands together with almost childlike glee. "I made a rhyme."

"I'd say it was nice to see you, but I'd be lying. Let's just get this over with."

"Oooh. You'll have no crumpets with your tea. And Spike won't have any either. He won't come to the party because he's been a very naughty boy." She paused sadly. "I'll have to make new invitations for him . . ."

"You talk too much." Buffy lunged at her with a stake, but Drusilla moved swiftly out of the way, expertly catching Buffy across the face with her hand.

"Why won't he come to the party? Because he has Buffy everywhere. It's all over him, dripping from him."

"Now you're starting to annoy me." Buffy whirled and kicked Drusilla in the abdomen, sending her flying over a gravestone.

Quickly, Drusilla recovered and pulled a jeweled dagger from her pocket. "They're whispering that today is the day the Slayer dies. It's so exciting!"

"At least you're a challenge, Dru." Buffy punched her in the face and dove for the knife. Unbidden, a thought came. Would it really matter if this knife sunk into her heart? She could die today. Perhaps she would welcome it after all.

Somehow she missed the knife. Before she could even consider another course of action, she was pinned to the ground, with Drusilla smiling maliciously down at her. The dagger dug into the flesh of her neck and Drusilla licked her lips, thinking about the taste of Slayer blood on her tongue. Her voice lowered seductively. "I can hear your blood singing to me." And with that, the demon became visible and bared its fangs, plunging towards the pulsating vein in Buffy's neck . . . and then turned to dust.

Buffy shook violently. She had wanted it. She had wanted it badly. She had wanted it all to be over. Taking a shuddering breath, she saw who had dusted Dru.

Spike.

Spike stood, mouth open, stake in hand. Heavily he sat down on the ground, and let the dust of his former lover run through his fingers. Tears began to well up in his eyes. "Dru." He choked. "Why'd you come here love? Why'd you make me choose?" Bitterly he swiped at his eyes, turning them angrily to Buffy. "Are you happy now Slayer? Are you? Is this what you wanted?"

Buffy couldn't reply or move. Sobs wracked her body as she lay on the cold, wet ground of the cemetery.

Spike watched her for a moment. Gently he raised Buffy to a seated position, and for the second time when confronted with her tears his anger melted. Tentatively, he put an arm around her shoulder. She collapsed, emotionally and physically exhausted, her cries piercing the star-filled night sky.   
  
  



	2. Reassessment

Title: Reassessment   
Author: Sanguine   
Disclaimer: Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, and 20th-Century Fox own the characters. The situations presented here come from my own twisted brain.   
Distribution: With permission.   
Rating: PG   
  


Spike dug his black fingernails into his palms, as he watched his sire, his lover, Drusilla lunging at the Slayer. Drusilla's hand connected with Buffy's face, sending her flying backwards. Buffy quickly recovered, and dove for Drusilla's jeweled knife. Spike's blood screamed that he should help Drusilla, he should stop this . . . but he knew he was helpless. He couldn't hurt the Slayer, even if he wanted to . . .

Suddenly, the tables turned. Buffy lay on the ground of the cemetery, Drusilla's knife pressing against her neck. "I hear your blood singing to me," Drusilla crooned.

Then the world rippled before him. Stake hard in his hand. Thrusting forward. Into Drusilla's back. And then nothing. Dust hanging in the air. Anger. Remorse. Sadness. Anger. His hand on the Slayer. So fragile . . . She cried and cried. He had grief too. He bloody well did.

Spike woke up with a start. The dream again. Three days in a row. Three days of reliving the thing he'd done, saving the Slayer, killing his sire. "Pathetic. You are so bloody pathetic." He took a large swig from the bottle on his nightstand. Thrashing out of his bedsheets he tore around his crypt, inflicting damage on the things around him. A chair flew against the wall, shattering. One of Harmony's stray unicorns. Smash that too. Candles. Made a satisfying thud on the concrete floor. When there was nothing left to destroy in the room, he looked at the bottle in his hand and considered flinging it against the wall. "Nah," he shrugged, taking another swig. I still need you." Absentmindedly he picked up the crushed head of the Slayer mannequin that he had destroyed the night after Dru's death and caressed its plastic hair. "I have to do it. I have to do it."

* * * * * * * * * *

"Buffy. Buffy." Willow gently shook Buffy awake. "Time for class."

Buffy groaned and rolled over. The Scoobies and Giles had been watching her like hawks since her near miss in the cemetery three days before. Spike had delivered her to Giles's apartment that night, a shaking wreck. Giles's first impulse had been to kill Spike, but Spike—an unusually subdued Spike—had managed to convince Giles that he was telling the truth about what happened, about Drusilla's untimely appearance and subsequent death. Buffy barely remembered any of it. Just her wanting to die . . . really wanting it, and then her wish being denied by Spike of all people. Why had he saved her? She didn't want to be saved, especially by him. Maybe that was why he did it. He wanted to keep her around, torture her some more . . ."

"Buffy!" Willow shook her friend's shoulder again. "Up and at 'em. French History II remember? We have a test."

"OK, OK." Buffy sighed. She wished Willow hadn't spent the night. She wanted to stay in bed. "Just let me grab a shower."

* * * * * * * * * * "Bloody hell! Bloody. Sodding. Hell!" The stream of profanity continued as Spike shook his hand erratically, ripping his fingers free from a tangled mass of duct tape. Maybe his coordination would have been better if he hadn't already drank a half a bottle of mescal . . . whatever. Taking another swig, he taped his old T.V. antenna to the top of a head-sized metal bowl. Carefully, he tried it on. A perfect fit. "Now all I need is a good lightning storm. Then I can short circuit that bloody chip right out of my brain. Then I can stop being a pathetic wanker. Then I can have myself a nice bit of Slayer . . ."

Entering Spike's crypt, Xander Harris came upon a very strange sight. Spike sat on the floor, bottle in one hand, a metal bowl with an antenna on his head. Xander dissolved into helpless laughter. "Spike! Who are you supposed to be? My favorite Martian?"

Spike's eyes glinted dangerously as he removed his precious contraption. "No. I'm not your favorite anything. I'm. . . I'm your worst nightmare, or I will be if you don't get THE HELL OUT OF MY CRYPT." Spike launched himself at Xander. He wanted to rip out his bloody self-righteous throat! "Owwwwww!" Naturally the chip activated. Painful that.

"Serves you right Spike. You know the rules."

Spike sighed. "What the hell do you want?"

"I want to know what you did to Buffy."

"What do you mean? I saved the bitch's life the other night."

"I know . . . and I can't really figure that one out." Xander considered Spike's slumped shoulders and decided to go easy on him. "Look, I don't care about how the stakage of the insane ex fits into your new evil plan. I'm here because I'm concerned about Buffy."

"It's always Buffy this, and Buffy that. What about me, huh? What about my pain?" Spike petulantly kicked the mannequin head into a corner.

Xander's eyes followed the crushed head. "Yeah, well, Buffy kinda indicated that you might have had something to do with Riley's departure."

"Maybe I did. I just showed her the truth about him."

"So you were the one who told her about Riley's, uh, dances with vamps?"

"Yeah. And now she hates me. And now Dru's dead." Spike threw the remnants of the bottle against the wall and sat down heavily on his bed, the only piece of furniture he had left intact.

"Spike man, I'm sorry about Dru. And Buffy will get over it in time. She'll be your friend . . ." Xander paused, realizing how ridiculous that sounded. "OK, maybe she'll still hate you, but she probably won't try and kill you again, you being all helpless and stuff."

Spike moaned and put his head in his hands.

Xander's eye caught Spike's bedside table. A rather attractive picture of Buffy stared back at him from a gilded picture frame. "Spike! What the hell are you doing with Buffy's picture?"

"Uh . . . well . . . " Spike grabbed the picture and hid it under his pillow. "It's . . . it's . . . none of your sodding business!"

"Spike, my idea of fun is not hanging out with you in your crypt on a sunny Sunnydale afternoon. Just stay away from Buffy, OK? We've got this whole Glory situation, and the last thing she needs to deal with is you."

Spike's face emerged from his hands, his interest piqued. Glory? "Ah, yeah. That Glory. She's, uh, really bad."

"Yeah. She's all goddess-like and scary with that brain suck maneuver of hers . . ."

"Playing with peoples heads, eh? That sounds bad. Very bad." Spike's eyes began to glint as he hurried Xander towards the door. "Well, by gum, let me know if I can be any help, Mr. Xander. I haven't killed something really challenging in a while."

Spike smiled for the first time in many, many days. He wouldn't be pathetic much longer.

* * * * * * * * * Xander walked away from Spike's crypt shaking his head. What was up with all the Buffy memorabilia? The blonde mannequin head, the picture? And then his reaction when he said Buffy hated him? Surely . . . "Nah. Spike couldn't possibly . . . " Xander began to laugh. "Spike wuvs Buffy . . . Spike wuvs Buffy!" Cackling, he ran right into . . . Buffy.

"Talk to yourself much Xander?"

"Uh, Buffy." He tried to contain himself. "Missing any pictures?"

"Only the ones that idiot Spike stole from my basement a few weeks ago."

"You know about that?"

"Yeah. He's probably throwing darts at them right now."

"Nope. One of them has shown up on his bedside table, all framed and pretty." Xander stifled a giggle. It was really just too silly.

Buffy's face turned bright red. "What the hell! Is he trying to ruin my life? He must be using the picture for some kind of . . . of . . . voodoo curse."

"Why the frame then Buffy?"

"I don't know. Maybe it's a weird Martha Stewart kind of voodoo."

"Maybe Spike's got himself a little crush."

Buffy laughed hollowly. "Not likely Xander. Remember, he just tried to kill me, oh, a few weeks ago. Wanted to suck me dry? Remember that? Come to think of it, I really don't know why I didn't stake him then and there."

"I can't argue with that. But what about him saving you from Drusilla?"

"I dunno. Guess he was sick of being rejected by a loon."

"Uh, uh Buffy. I just saw him. He looks bad. Really bad. Remember when he came back to Sunnydale a few years ago after Drusilla dumped him? It's that bad. He thinks you hate him and want him dead."

"Well I do." Buffy paused. "But don't worry Xander. I won't do it . . . yet."

She turned and sprinted away.

Xander shook his head. "I obviously haven't gotten the 'help Buffy' thing down yet."

* * * * * * * * * * Spike drew a long drag from his cigarette. "Willy, mate. Guinness."

"You're risking your ass being in here. You're not exactly Mr. Popularity."

Spike shifted his weight on the barstool. "Yeah, well I'm not planning on staying long. Look Willy. I need information."

"It'll cost ya. Lots." Willy set the dark brew in front of Spike.

"Look mate," Spike drew a fairly thick wad from his pocket. "It's all I've got."

Willy considered it briefly and then grabbed it. "Talk quick Spike."

"What do you know about Glory?"

Willy's eyes opened wide. "Glory. What do you want with her? Are you crazy?"

"What I want with her is my business. I've paid you."

"All I know is she's rented a fancy uptown apartment. Her little demon monk comes in here every so often for a drink. The guy talks about her like she's, well, a . . ."

"A goddess?"

"Yeah. All 'beneficent one,' 'most gorgeous shining, splendid. . ..'"

Spike looked around nervously as four big Zulasha demons growled at him. "Um, Willy, if you know her address, best write it down now."

Willy scribbled down the address on a crumpled cocktail napkin and tossed it at Spike. "You're as nuts as that wacko ex-girlfriend of yours."

Spike's fury exploded as he pulled Willy towards him, his game face on. God! he wished he could bleed the bugger dry. "Never mention her again."

Those were the last words he managed before . . . Slam! A large meaty fist connected painfully with his skull.

Spike whirled around, landing a crushing blow between the Zulasha demon's horns.

"Right then. A bit of violence doesn't sound so bad after all."

* * * * * * * * * * Spike staggered away from the demon bar, bruised, battered, but happier than he had felt in weeks. Wiping blood from the corner of his mouth he walked through the cemetery towards his crypt, reliving the brutal fight . . . Zulasha demons made a pleasant squishy splat, they did . . .

"Tasting your own blood again Spike?"

Spike's elation quickly faded.

"Buffy."

Her mouth twisted into a wry smile. "Don't worry. I'm not going to kill you."

"I . . . I wasn't worried."

"Why don't I believe you? You seem worried."

Spike couldn't reply. He just stared.

"Boy, you're full of talk."

She was mocking him.

Suddenly the Slayer's face changed, her eyes softened. "I'm sorry about Drusilla."

Spike nodded and walked quickly towards his crypt. He didn't look back. He didn't want her to see.

* * * * * * * * * * "I think he's up to something, Giles." Buffy swung at the punching bag, her fist sending it flying. "He seemed all weird tonight. He almost ran away from me. Not even one one-liner."

"Maybe he's genuinely distraught about killing Drusilla. He did spend over a century with the woman."

"Yeah. I know he cared about her, but . . ." she punctuated her sentence with a hefty punch, "there's more to it. He's been acting weird for a while Giles, even before this thing with Drusilla. He's been hanging around outside my house. Oh, and one time I found him in my basement, stealing pictures of me."

"Hmmm. Fascinating. Go on."

"And when I asked him about the Slayers he killed, he made me take him to the Bronze for beer and chicken wings."

"Well that part doesn't sound so unusual Buffy. We're talking about a vampire who put Weetabix in his blood for texture." Giles shuddered at the memory. He still couldn't eat that cereal.

"I didn't tell you Giles, but some of the things he said that night . . ." Buffy's eyes welled up with tears. "He said all Slayers had a death wish. That I wanted death. That I was a little bit in love with it. That's how he said he killed them . . . and would kill me." Buffy completely broke down. "And Giles . . . sometimes I wonder if what he said is true. Maybe I do want to die sometimes. It would be so easy. I wouldn't have to do this anymore. . . "

"Shhh. Buffy." Giles stroked her hair. "Spike doesn't know everything. Sometimes he's remarkably dense for a vampire who's lived as long as he has. Whatever's causing him to behave this way, we'll find out. You'd best stay away from him until we know what he's planning. You need your strength to deal with Glory."

Buffy nodded against Giles's shoulder. But she wasn't promising anything.

* * * * * * * * * *

Spike paced his crypt. Things had been so clear. So easy. The mangled Buffy head sat on his bed, looking up at him. She'd said she was sorry. Maybe she understood what killing Dru meant. What she meant . . . Spike cleared his throat and looked the mannequin head in the eyes. "Buffy, there's something I need to tell you . . ."

Crash!

A beautiful blond woman in strappy red shoes stood in the midst of swirling dust. "Are you sure this is the guy?"

A cowled demon cringed and cooed next to the blond, "Yes, your most munificent benevolent highness."

"He looks kind of weird. What's with the head?"

"Hey now!" Spike turned, insulted. "What are you doing, I might ask, breaking down my door. Doesn't anyone ever knock?"

"I heard you wanted to see me."

"Glory?" Spike looked at her appreciatively. "You don't seem that bad."

A ray of light shot from Glory's hand, pinning him against the wall. "Oh believe me, I'm bad. And I'm short on time, so let's skip the chit-chat." She released him and inspected her carefully polished fingernails, allowing him to slide to the floor.

"Fine. What do you want?"

"The Slayer. I need to find something, and she's really getting in my way. It's getting very, very boring."

"Why do you think I can help you?"

Glory pointed to Buffy's picture on his bedside table. "Don't play dumb." She stomped her foot impatiently, shaking the foundation of the crypt. "You know her. She knows you. Now I want you to kill her."

"Can't do it."

"What if I got rid of your little problem?"

Spike looked at her in amazement.

"The chip stupid."

Spike's jaw dropped.

"Don't look so surprised you idiot. Everyone at that demon bar . . . that's one of their favorite stories! 'How Spike was neutered.'"

Spike growled. He really wanted to hit her, but thought better of it.

Glory seductively approached Spike. "You know you want it." Then his head was in a vicelike grip. He felt a twinge of intense pain as her energy flowed through him. And then, nothing. He slumped into unconsciousness.

"Spike! Spike!" Glory slapped his face. "Wake up."

Spike's cloudy eyes tried to focus. The monk was holding onto a struggling girl. Blond.

"We brought you something. Something to test it out. A little present."

Glory grabbed the girl and threw her towards Spike. "Drink up. You'll need your strength!"

Was the chip really gone? Spike looked at the pulsating neck of the girl, and licked his lips. Could he kill her? Drink deep? After the butchers' blood it would taste so good. The girl squirmed. She had brown eyes like Buffy.

"Please," she sobbed. "Let me go. Just let me go."

"I'm sorry pet. Can't do that." Spike plunged his fangs into her neck and felt the rush. He raised his head from his victim and smiled bloodily at Glory. "It worked. Don't worry about the Slayer, love. I'll take care of her."

"You have two days Spike. After that, I'm coming after you."


	3. Full of Sound and Fury

Title: Full of Sound and Fury   
Author: Sanguine   
Disclaimer: Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, and 20th-Century Fox own these characters. The situations presented here come from my own twisted brain.   
Distribution: With permission.   
Rating: PG   
__ __

_Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player,_   
_That struts and frets upon the stage,_   
_And then is heard no more. It is a tale_   
_Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,_   
_Signifying nothing._   
William Shakespeare, _Macbeth_, act 5, scene 5

Spike felt the fresh human blood rush through him. Ecstasy. With great difficulty he withdrew his fangs from his victim's neck. Weakly she looked up at him, a mix of fear and questioning in her eyes. Why wasn't she dead?

Spike turned his face from her. He couldn't look at her, look at the still bleeding wound on her neck. God he wanted it. But she had another purpose. "I spared you, pet. Now I need you to run a little errand for me." His voice became low and menacing. "And if you don't, I will find you again . . ."

"Anything." The girl began to cry. "I'll do anything you want. Just don't kill me. Please don't . . ."

Spike raised one hand, his face still turned from the girl as he struggled to regain his composure. "Save it. Here's what I need you to do . . ."

* * * * * * * * * * * Glory watched the still bleeding girl look furtively around her as she escaped from Spike's crypt. "Dreg, you disgusting creature! You're right! He is the one. He has to be."

* * * * * * * * * * Joyce taped the white gauze to the girl's neck. "Buffy, we should really take her to the hospital."

The girl shook her head. "No! I have to give you my message. I have to . . ." She began to cry again, shaking violently.

Buffy put her arm around the girl and stroked her hair. "Shhhh. OK. OK. Start at the beginning, then we'll take you the hospital."

The girl took a broken breath. "There's no time. There's no time. This is it. This is his message. Spike says to tell you the chip is out. He said to show you my neck as proof."

Buffy gasped. Spike bit this girl?

"He said to tell you Glory did it, she took the chip out, and she wants him to kill you."

Buffy laughed bitterly. "Let him come and try."

The girl shook her head. "No! He said he let me go so you'll trust him and he won't kill you, but Glory's watching him and she'll kill you both and . . ." The girl collapsed in hysterics.

"Mom, take her to the hospital. I've got some business to take care of."

"Buffy," Joyce's face became drawn with concern. "Do you think that's wise? If this Glory person is wanting to kill you and Spike did this . . ." She gestured towards the young girl, her voice trailing off as she contemplated the potential horrible outcome.

"I know, I know, Mom." She hugged her tightly. "I will be careful."

* * * * * * * * * * A light still shone in the Magic Box. Well past midnight. Giles read the passage again. He couldn't believe it. It couldn't be true. Spike? Not Spike? And Buffy? There had to be another way of interpreting this. It just can't be right!

* * * * * * * * * * "It's him alright." Quentin Travers looked at the impatient blond who was pacing before him. "He's the one."

"How do you know?" Travers arched an eyebrow cynically.

"He let the girl go. We offered him a yummy fresh girl, and he let her go. And then he sent her trotting away to warn the Slayer. What more proof do you need?"

Travers tapped his fingers lightly on his desk. "Intriguing. Simple intriguing. So they're the guardians of the key?"

Glory's voice raised shrilly, "Duh! That's what I've been trying to tell you."

"So, if we watch both of them, they will lead us right to it. It's destiny."

"And then I'll get to leave this icky mortal coil thing and go home and then you'll have what you want."

"Yes." Travers agreed. "We certainly will."

* * * * * * * * * * "Hello?" Dawn picked up the phone wearily. Strange things were always happening lately. Lots of whispering. Lots of secrets. Made it hard for her to sleep. And now Mom was at the hospital with some weird girl who just showed up, babbling about Spike. Dawn didn't like Spike, but it was totally obvious he liked her sister. Everyone liked her sister . . ."

". . . . very important that I speak with her."

"Huh?" Dawn's attention snapped back. "What was that Mr. Giles?"

"Is Buffy there? It's very important that I speak with her."

"Uh uh. I think she went to see Spike. She seemed pretty angry." Dawn's face lit up with curiosity. "What's going on?"

"Bloody hell!" Giles cursed. "Oh, that's . . . that's not meant for you Dawn. Thanks for the information."

"Anytime. No problem." Dawn heard the phone click as Giles hastily hung up his receiver. "Don't tell me anything. That's fine. Well maybe I'll just pay a little visit to Spike myself."

* * * * * * * * * * "Buffy. I've been expecting you."

Buffy brandished a stake menacingly in one hand, a cross in the other. "What game are you playing? Why didn't you kill that girl? Your chip is out. You can be the Big Bad again, right? You could even try to kill me again if you wanted to. Try being the operative word."

Spike could hear the blood rushing through Buffy's veins. It was louder than ever. He could tell how upset she was.

"Spike! Talk! Now!"

"No game Slayer." He sat down heavily on his bed. "No game."

Buffy's eyes spotted the framed picture of herself on his bedside table. "No game," she repeated under her breath.

"Glory wanted me to kill you. Big miscalculation on her part."

"I . . . I guess so." Buffy shifted her weight between her feet uncomfortably. "Look, I don't know why you're acting this way . . . and maybe I don't want to know." She paused as she saw the pain flit across Spike's face. "But both of us are in big trouble. Glory is really powerful. I just can't figure out why she didn't come and get me herself."

"Didn't know your address?" Spike shrugged, examining the tops of his shoes, not making eye contact.

"Maybe." Buffy sat down on the bed beside him. "In any case we have to figure out something or . . ." Wait! He doesn't know about the key. Could she tell him?

"What is it?" For the first time since she'd entered his crypt Spike's eyes met hers. What she saw there both unnerved her and told her she could trust him.

Buffy cleared her throat, "You see, there's this key . . ."

* * * * * * * * * * Giles ran towards Spike's crypt. He only hoped that he would reach Buffy in time. If she killed Spike it would all be over.

* * * * * * * * * * "Dreg. What do you see?"

"She definitely went in there to see him, my splendid shining highness."

"So if the prophecy is right, they will go straight to the key." Glory sighed and leaned against an old elm, stretching her arms out in bliss. "And then I can go home."

* * * * * * * * * * Dawn looked anxiously behind her. No one was following her. She felt the stake in her jacket pocket. She could handle vampires too! Living in Sunnydale, you picked up a few things. She saw the edge of the cemetery. Almost there! Then she'd find out what was really going on . . . for a change.

* * * * * * * * * * "Wait! Buffy! Don't kill him!"

Giles burst through the door and found . . . Buffy and Spike sitting on the edge of his bed.

"Oh thank God you didn't do anything rash. It's the prophecy." Giles laughed a little bit hysterically. "It's all in the prophecy."

"Whoa, Giles. Slow down. I know you get excited about those dusty old books, but . . ."

"Buffy there's no time for banter. I must talk to you seriously. Talk to you both."

Spike looked up. "We're listening."

"The prophecy says that there will be a Slayer. She is destined to protect the key, the portal. The key that Glory wants." Giles gestured towards Spike. "Does he know about the key?"

Buffy nodded. "I told him."

"But how did you know you could trust him?"

Buffy turned red, and even Spike's normally pale face flushed with embarrassment.

"Oh never mind. The important thing is you knew. Anyway, the key isn't just a portal. Yes, that's one of its functions. But its energy also maintains the balance between good and evil on earth. Although the prophecy is vague, it appears that if the wrong person, if an evil entity like Glory has possession of its power, then evil will permanently win on earth. The war will be over."

"What does this have to do with us?"

"According to the prophecy, you, Buffy, are the Chosen One in more ways than one. You are the guardian of the key. But you are not the only guardian." Giles turned to the sullen blond vampire, not wanting to believe the prophecy's words. "Spike, you are the other guardian."

"Both of us?" Buffy couldn't believe it. Spike might be more sensitive than most vampires, but he was still evil. Not the best choice to guard a key with such incredible power.

"Yes both of you." Giles cleared his throat. This next bit was hard to swallow, particularly after everything Spike had done, all the times he'd tried to kill Buffy, betrayed the Scooby Gang. "According to the prophecy, together the two guardians provide the perfect balance of good and evil."

"Balance?" Spike looked skeptically at Giles.

"Yeah." Buffy looked equally unconvinced. "I don't sense a lot of balance coming from blondie over there."

"Wait a sodding minute, I just . . ."

"Enough!" The tone of Giles's voice stopped the argument dead in its tracks. "Let me explain. The prophecy tells us that the Slayer's power is rooted in darkness. She kills and hunts, even if the killing and hunting is justified. Her violent actions help maintain the balance between good and evil."

"So far, this is stuff I've heard before Giles." Buffy sighed. She found the idea that her power was somehow rooted in darkness deeply disturbing.

"This part is more difficult to fathom. The prophecy tells of a vampire who is special, an exception to the rule. He cannot kill and is capable of love and through that love he regains part of the goodness that had left him when he was turned. He is still without a soul, still without remorse, but not wholly evil."

Spike listened to the prophecy, panic and embarrassment flooding him in equal measures. "Doesn't sound like anyone I know."

"I think it does." Buffy considered him carefully. "You didn't kill the girl, even though you could, you loved Dru, and now . . ."

"Whatever." Spike began studying his shoes again. "Giles, tell us the rest."

"Whoops!" Spike's door swung open and a young girl fell through.

"Dawn!" Buffy and Giles cried simultaneously.

"Bloody hell! Nobody ever bothers to knock," Spike hissed.

Dawn looked very sheepish. "I just happened to be out for a walk, and I just happened to see you come in here, so I just thought I'd see what's going on and then . . ."

"I can't believe she's the key." Spike scoffed. "Sodding portal, my ass."

"Spike!" Giles and Buffy whirled angrily and glared at the vampire.

"What? What did I say?" He looked at Dawn's expression. "Oh God. She doesn't know!"

"I'm a portal?" Dawn yelled. "Why is everyone whispering behind my back? Why do people say I don't exist? I don't understand why . . ."

"Slayer, you could have mentioned she didn't know."

"I thought you told him everything Buffy," Giles's voice also raised in intensity.

"OK. Maybe the prophecy was a teensy bit wrong." Glory and Dreg strode through the door. "Boy, you guys sure do talk loud. I guess the key has come to you." Glory looked at Dawn menacingly. "Come here, kid. I have some candy . . ."

"NO!!!!" Dawn ran backwards, cowering into the corner of Spike's crypt as rays of pure energy began leaking out from around her eye sockets, from her fingertips, from the ends of her hair.

Buffy looked at Spike. He nodded. It seemed hopeless, but they would try.

Buffy stepped forward and attacked Glory, landing a punch right in her face. Glory stumbled back a few steps, and began to speak just as Spike's fist connected, slamming her against the concrete wall. Dreg backed cautiously towards the door. He abhorred violence.

Buffy felt the adrenaline and anger rush through her. The marble of Spike's crypt suddenly turned all shades of black and gray. Anger and hatred filled her, feeding her. That bastard Riley who left her. [Slam.] Dawn—she never asked for that. The Chosen One. Destiny. No one could understand. [Crunch.] She watched her hands and feet as they performed their violent magic (moving so impossibly fast). She saw another figure superimposed, something dark. The First Slayer. Buffy smiled.

Spike burned as if lit from the inside. His crypt was an overexposed photograph. Too light. Too bright. He squinted. It hurt his eyes. He saw Buffy fly backwards, painfully hitting the unforgiving wall, leaving cracks behind. Then he knew. He had to save her. Nothing else mattered. Not the key. Not destiny. Not being loved in return.

Spike placed a hand on Buffy's shoulder. He tried to speak. No words came out. Everything was in slow motion. Buffy. Girl. Slayer. Killer. Loneliness. Love. Confusion. He felt energy and light . . . and shadow.

Buffy felt breath escape from her mouth, but no sound. Time moved slowly. Spike. Gentleman. Poet. Rejection. Sadness. Anger. Bloodshed. Love. Loneliness. She felt energy and shadow . . . and light.

Together Spike and Buffy felt Glory writhe in pain. This is what they were meant to do. Yes. It was all over.

Spike and Buffy collapsed. Glory was gone. So was Dawn.

* * * * * * * * * * Quentin Travers tried to keep a stiff upper lip, but he was deeply, deeply disappointed. "So Dreg. They defeated her? And no key?"

"The key just disappeared. The energy seemed to go into the Slayer and the blond vampire."

Travers nodded. "Yes, I suppose it would. They are the balancing agents. They will be the keepers. It's a pity though that our little arrangement didn't work out. Glory could have gotten what she wanted and in return we could have had all that energy. We could have really accomplished something then."

Dreg didn't care about the Watcher's Council or their plans. He just wanted to leave this place. "Well, if you won't be needing anything else, I'll take my money now."

"Oh yes. Of course. How uncivilized of me." Travers opened his desk drawer and pulled out an envelope. "Here you are."

Dreg greedily grasped the envelope and immediately screamed in pain as the poison traveled through his body.

Travers observed him dispassionately. "Dreg, you didn't really think we'd let you go? You're a demon. A menace to society."

Dreg's eyes bulged from his head.

"As you breathe your last you might wonder why I wasn't poisoned by the envelope. Well, our scientists are very industrious you know. They've developed all kinds of poisons designed especially to kill demons. No effect on humans though."

Travers patted the now dead Dreg on the shoulder. "Better luck next time, old chap."

* * * * * * * * * * Buffy and Spike sat in uncomfortable silence. Giles had left. Someone had to tell Joyce about Dawn. About what had happened.

Buffy began to cry. Even though Dawn was not her sister, she still cared about her. And now she was gone.

Silently Spike put his arm around her shoulder.

Buffy looked at him with a tear-stained face. Everything she'd thought about him wasn't true. "I don't know what happened. What was the purpose of all that? The key? Glory? Then it was just over so quickly."

Spike shook his head. "Maybe it means nothing at all. Just full of sound and fury, pet."

Buffy knew the reference and half-smiled. William the Poet. "Or maybe it did all mean something. We'll just have to wait and see."

**THE END**


End file.
